Behind Those Sunglasses

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wondered if you liked me. The glances that you stole at me did say so. But maybe, I was wrong. Coz, there was a whole lot of stuff hidden behind those sunglasses...

Submitted: May 05, 2015

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Submitted: May 05, 2015

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stock-photo-pretty-brunette-woman-wearin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My eyes lingered onto you the moment you entered the cafè. Dressed in Grecian blue summer dress with Aztec prints; you stole my breath away. Nude blue pumps, a shimmery lip gloss and glares completed your look. You looked every bit of the classy diva that posed on the cover page of Vogue.

Every eye was drawn towards alluring aura you radiated but you seemed obvious to the attention poured onto you.

 

You sat in a booth that was directly in sight of my vision. Your friend, though pretty didn’t catch my attention the way you and that smile of yours did. Leaving you seated in the booth with a cup of cappuccino, she made her way to the counter to place an order.

 

Now absolutely alone, I saw your gaze drifting around. But, at times you looked straight ahead. If those glares didn’t block your eyes, I would definitely have been sure that you were staring at me. Sipping on your cappuccino from a bent straw, my eyes were drawn to that plump, pink and luscious lip of yours. You were looking right ahead and I was positive that my blue eyes had caught your attention. Cockiness and arrogance were one of the many traits I possessed; so approaching you wasn’t a thing that scared me or made me nervous.

 

I slowly pushed my chair back and stood up, my eyes still fixated on you. Straightening my spine with the confidence I owned, I made my way towards you. I sat in the chair right across you. Hearing the scraping of the chair against the floor you looked up, your eyebrows scrunched together. I found that gesture adorable but kept my thoughts to myself. I leant my elbows on the table and said, “So you were looking at me.”  It was more of a statement rather than a question. Yep, the arrogance and the charm I possessed always made me speak bluntly.

 

“Now was I?” you asked in your honey coated voice. I would be lying if I said that your voice didn’t make tingles shoot up my spine.

 

“Yep you were.” I affirmed.

 

“Straightforward and arrogant much?” You questioned with a smirk tugging at your lips. You were aimlessly stirring your drink of choice with the straw. Your eyes refused to look into mine as they were focused downwards. The ground, straw or the cappuccino; I was unable to determine which one of those held your attention so damn intensely.

 

“Straightforward, yes. Arrogant, maybe. I go for what I like. Why beat around the bush when I could definitely get what I want.”

 

Hearing my witty reply you chuckled. And man, was that chuckle damn sexy. Seeing you chuckle turned my signature smirk that adorned my lips into a genuine smile. Boy, you definitely did things to me even though I had just met you.

 

“Well, I think your straightforwardness didn’t remind you to ask me my name.” You looked up at me; but those sunglasses prevented me from seeing your eyes which I bet must have been beautiful.

 

 

I scratched my nape. Smooth, I thought to myself with a grimace. Shaking my head at my own lack of necessary and vital etiquettes, I stretched my hand in front for you to shake as I said, “Storm and what might your name be beautiful lady?”

 

“Leah,” you smiled, but no made no attempt to shake my hand.

 

Feeling a bit thrown off track by your action or lack of thereof, I pulled my hand back to my side and asked you, “Did my words offend you that you didn’t even deem me worthy of a handshake?” My voice was playful, but they masked the hurt I felt.

 

“Huh, sorry?” Confusion laced your words.

 

“You clearly rejected my attempt of being nice by not even looking at my hand that was raised to shake your hand.” I stated rather flatly.

 

“Oh!” the lines of confusion disappeared from your face. “Sorry for being rude but if I did see your hand than I would have definitely shaken it.”

 

“Huh?” Then it was my turn for the features of my face to morph into one of confusion. My hand was raised at a decent height in front of you. Hence, I was sure that you could have not missed it. Besides, to be honest, my hand was quite muscular and big. So not seeing it was definitely something I didn’t envision you doing. But your next sentence answered my obvious question and puzzled brain and it also solved the mystery of your eyes hidden behind those glares.

 

“I am blind.”

 

\"You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, but the scent of the roses will linger there still\"

-Ruskin Bond, 'The Eyes Are Not Here'


© Copyright 2020 natalayaevans. All rights reserved.

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